


The Honeymoon Phase

by kopescetic



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Business Snakes, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heist, Honeymoon, LITERALLY, Meet The Ex Girlfriend! She's not nice, Minor Angst, Miscommunication, Newlywed Characters, Original Ex Girlfriend Character, Partners in Crime, Rangian street poker!, Space Wives, Squid People, Theyre in so much love idk how to tag just please read, basically the plot of train from nowhere but with vesbud and theyre married, buddy has no clue whats going on, by the way this is completely sfw, gross swamp creatures, just so much fluff, threatened death by tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopescetic/pseuds/kopescetic
Summary: Buddy Aurinko prided herself on her ability to adapt to any situation. It was part of what kept her alive for 50 years, and at the top of her criminal career for 30. It was how she’d escaped and thrived in prisons and parties alike, and it’s how she’d met Vespa. If someone tells you a secret, pretend you didn’t already know it. If someone thinks they know you, don’t call their bluff. If someone comes at you with a knife because you stole her wallet and heart, you win before you’re forced to give them back.But back then it was as true as it is now, that Vespa Ilkay was the ultimate weakness to that ability. All that time, and Vespa had never once adapted for anyone, never changed because the situation demanded she be someone else, someone more. Vespa looked you in the eye and demanded you take her as she is, or else you’d regret it. Buddy had built her empire on bullshit, and Vespa had built hers on not leaving room for anything of the kind.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13
Collections: The Annual Penumbra Valentacular Spectacular





	The Honeymoon Phase

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! I feel kind of embarassed writing something this long and this Completely Safe For Work for a tentacle event, but i had a lot of fun writing this! Please enjoy!!

"Call me a fool if you dare, darling, but when you told me Ranga was a swamp planet, I didn't expect to be physically wading through water,” Buddy said through gritted teeth, plucking stray foliage from her pants. ”I was expecting at least some degree of civilization, seeing as you grew up here. Not that I'm complaining....well, no, I am a little bit. Yes, I think I am definitely complaining."

Suffice it to say, Buddy was not in her element. Far from it. Approximately 1,768.6 hypermiles from it, which coincidentally was also the distance they were from the Carte Blanche, and would remain for the entirety of the heist. Buddy Aurinko never expected to so fondly miss the ship, never being one for material attachments, but she supposed perspectives change when one’s socks are soaked in swamp water and one has spent the past few hours fighting off mosquitoes the size of her fists. 

Vespa seemed to be doing alright, though, if she had to be glad for something, at least it was that. In fact, Vespa was doing more than alright. She had her plasma blade brandished in one hand and a stick in the other, and was taking to the brush like they had unfinished business. It had been years since she wore a look like that; focused, intense, spurned on by adrenaline and some deep, giddy catharsis. Buddy hadn’t seen that look in her eyes since the days they sparred in full pubs for fun and whispered sweet nothings into the space between their ears and where the tips of their knives were poised to each others’ throats. 

In short, Vespa was burning brightly on Ranga, and Buddy felt as if she’d been snuffed out hours ago. 

“Sorry, Bud. I guess I underestimated how long this walk was gonna be. It’s this way a little farther.” Vespa cut down a branch as she said it, not realising it was the only thing keeping a horde of vines from hitting them both in the face. At the last second, she slashed, leaving a pile of thick vines in her wake. She grinned crookedly back at Buddy, wiping a mix of chlorophyll and fish blood from her brow. She was covered in all kinds of swamp junk, yet seemed more herself than Buddy had seen her in months. 

Buddy’s mechanical heart responded accordingly. 

“Close call, huh.” 

"Yes, well.” Buddy exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the nerves and gain some foothold in this situation. How many years had to pass before Vespa ceased to amaze her? How many times did she have to watch that woman tear down everything in her wake with nothing but a knife and a bone to pick before it stopped making her feel butterflies in her stomach? She didn’t even have much of a stomach anymore, but did the butterflies care? Apparently not. 

“You okay there?” Vespa shot her a worried look, her eyebrows creased. The humidity had made the hair on the back of her neck curl softly from where it stuck out of where she’d tied it back. 

“Hm? Oh, yes. Completely. Corny as Kansas in August.” Buddy tried to wrestle the frizzy mass of her hair into something manageable, if only to stop the marble-sized swamp flies from getting caught in it.

“Ok, well as long as you’re- wait, what?” She turned around abruptly, tilting her head in confusion. 

“I’m fine, darling.” 

“As long as you’re sure, Bud..” Vespa gave her wife a skeptical look, a slight grin still lingering on her lips. She looked amused, of all things. _Amused._ “Town’s only a few more minutes this way.”

“Well. Good, then.” 

One of the mega-mosquitoes hissed out of the corner of Buddy’s vision and she jumped as Vespa crushed it against the side of a tree without even _flinching. If Buddy walked a little faster through the mud, who was to judge her, really?_

“Do you...promise it’s not much farther? Because, although I’d trust you with my life, you’ve been wrong about this specific thing before; in fact, you were very recently mistaken. I believe you of course, but I’d simply-”

Vespa chuckled. “I promise, Bud.”

Buddy Aurinko prided herself on her ability to adapt to any situation. It was part of what kept her alive for 50 years, and at the top of her criminal career for 30. It was how she’d escaped and thrived in prisons and parties alike, and it’s how she’d met Vespa. If someone tells you a secret, pretend you didn’t already know it. If someone thinks they know you, don’t call their bluff. If someone comes at you with a knife because you stole her wallet and heart, you win before you’re forced to give them back. 

But back then it was as true as it is now, that Vespa Ilkay was the ultimate weakness to that ability. All that time, and Vespa had never once adapted for anyone, never changed because the situation demanded she be someone else, someone more. Vespa looked you in the eye and demanded you take her as she is, or else you’d regret it. Buddy had built her empire on bullshit, and Vespa had built hers on not leaving room for anything of the kind. 

It seemed like the universe loved cruel irony today, that Buddy, self-proclaimed queen of adaptation should have such a difficult time doing so now, and Vespa should take to their new, harsh environment like a fish to swamp water. It was unfair, ridiculously attractive, and Buddy could only afford to feel hot under the collar in one way when 70 degrees counted for cold weather, which in the case of Ranga, it _did._

Vespa rolled up her pant legs, and stabbed her stick into the ground that was now more mud than water, grabbing Buddy’s hand behind her for balance. Buddy wouldn’t admit how much she appreciated the grounding. “Look, I know it’s not exactly a solar boarding school, but I grew up here. You haven’t seen what it’s like.” 

Buddy sighed at the note of vulnerability in Vespa’s voice. “I know, darling. I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to insult your home.” 

“Hm? Oh, _no_. I lived all the way on the other side of the swamp in a different, worse swamp.”

“Did you visit often?”

“Not as far as my parents knew.”

“So, all the time then.”

“Basically, yeah.” Vespa’s hand hadn’t left Buddy’s, though it was now more loosely circling her wrist. Buddy made no attempt to pull away, but also felt oddly hesitant to press into the touch, or intertwine their fingers where she’d usually jump at the chance. 

Dear Stars, it was like she was a teenager! Buddy never thought the Honeymoon phase operated that literally, but here they were. One day they were as familiar and comfortable in their love as a well lived-in sweater, but one simple ceremony with a violin and a few rose petals and all of a sudden it was as if the past several decades hadn’t happened, and she was giddy and nervous all over again like a...well, like a newlywed. Their relationship felt new, fragile, though still precious despite the fact that it was almost older than their youngest crewmate. It was maddening, especially considering how hard the two had worked to build back that comfort since their separation had put a jagged, trauma-filled wall between them. 

She supposed a good deal of it could have to do with Ranga; something in Vespa thrived here, which was baffling knowing how rarely she spoke well of her upbringing. It was beautiful to see, the love of her life who so often struggled with hearing all manner of venomous things that weren’t there, who had to constantly be on alert to fight them off before she began to believe they were, just exist in a state of self-assuredness, to look and feel as if she was in control for once. It wasn’t something she often got to be; it was as unfamiliar to Buddy as her own feelings of powerlessness. She didn’t dislike it, which was potentially the most baffling thing about this. Quite the opposite actually, she... well, there would be a time and place to unpack those feelings and it certainly was not now in the middle of a Rangian swamp. 

“I walked pretty much this same path every weekend. Eventually you get used to the cricket-eels.” She slashed away at a curtain of vines, revealing a clearing before them scattered with tall, spire-like buildings. At least there seemed to be some dry land up ahead in the way of a pier, and although the midday fog was starting to roll in, the multicolored fluorescent lights from the windows and streetlights painted a somewhat decent picture. Buddy may have considered it pretty, even, were she not waist-deep in green, sludgy swamp mud. 

“Believe it or not, this is the city- they’ve been _trying_ to clean the place up for years, but the business snakes won’t let em’. Didn’t stop everything from becoming ridiculously expensive, though.”

“I suppose I should have expected political corruption everywhere.”

“No Bud, they’re actually snakes. Run most of the city’s industry. Aren’t half bad at it either, if you forgive the slime trails they leave everywhere.” 

“Ah.” Buddy attempted to wrap her head around the technicalities of that, but quickly gave up. 

“Sounds awful.” 

“Yeah.” Vespa sighed, tone of voice implying it was anything but. 

The plan was this: they’d pretend to be in Ranga on their honeymoon. Vespa would reconnect with some old contacts while Buddy would schmooze and gather intel on their target. The Barbadensis Plant was a new strain of flowering bush that was mutated to have certain radiation-cleansing properties. It was also quite pretty, which meant that most people who managed to get their hands on it made quite a big fuss over it, which is how Rita was able to trace the origins of the plant back to Ranga. 

It was reasonable to assume that whoever had the plant would want to keep it securely locked away, safe where nobody could find it, and as talented a hacker as Rita was, she wasn’t able to trace a location back to any of the pictures she’d found. That evening they’d meet with a mystery person who also was in the business of finding the plant, and who claimed to have the location of it and would share it on the condition they all split their findings. Vespa and Buddy had no intention to do any such thing, but their informant didn’t need to know that. 

It was Buddy’s first mistake of the heist, believing their plan would go on well. It hadn’t even been an hour since they’d been in the city that there was a knife pointed at them with deadly aim. 

Vespa’s eyes narrowed at the man, hands tentatively raised, her shoulders carrying the kind of tension that meant she was getting ready to strike, like a cobra rearing back. 

“Now, what’re folks like you doing in a place like this?” the man sneered, looking between the two of them as if trying to locate what sort of string connects them. 

“We’re just v-”

“Haven’t ya heard?” With no warning, Vespa struck, blade inches away from its target. “The city sent us. We’re here to bring you in.”

They stood there in relative silence, the tension in the air palpable. Vespa narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her, serrated edge of her knife poised to his artery. She didn’t need to apply very much pressure at all in order to kill the man, but Vespa was not known for holding back. 

Buddy was almost certain she was about to witness a murder, when all at once the tension dissolved. As if flipping a switch, the man dropped the plasma cutter he had braced to Vespa's chest and embraced her shoulder amicably. 

"Good to see ya doin so well, V."

Vespa, laughed at that. _Laughed._

"Wanted in half the galaxy? Yeah, sure. Glad to see you still selling slop."

"Hey, my slop's the best damn slop in this whole slopping city and you _know_ it." 

“You’d better go and prove it, then.” Vespa turned back to Buddy, excitement glittering in her eyes as she returned to her Wife’s side. “Buddy, meet Ravaxis. He and I used to run this area together back before I got the h out of dodge. Rav, this is my, uh.” 

For a moment, Vespa looked to her wife expectedly, as if asking for approval to be honest. Buddy’s heart was warmed by the gesture. “Her wife. It’s wonderful to meet you, Rav.”

“Well, hot damn V, didn’t think you were one to get hitched.” Ravaxis shook the hand Buddy gingerly held out to him with more fervor than was strictly necessary, but Buddy was going to reserve judgement. She was going to try to, at least. “So, what’ll it be for you and the misses then?”

“A bottle of red and, uh.. What’s the slop of the day?” Vespa ordered for her, something else Buddy would have to re-examine later when there was time and room to do so. 

“Manhattan Slop Chowder”

“Sure, I’ll have a bowl.”

“Anything for the lady?” 

“Ah, well. I’m not usually one for seafood- uh.“ Then, quieter to Vespa. “It...is seafood, right?”

“Close enough.”

“I'm not usually one fo-”

Rav sneered “What, is slop too good for her?” he said it to Vespa, as if Buddy wasn’t right there with an, as of right now, A perfectly working set of ears. 

Vespa angled herself protectively away from Buddy. “The lady’s got a food allergy, you ass.”

“She ain’t too good for slop?”

“No better than you.”

“What kind of food then, huh?”

Vespa didn’t even flinch. “Bad food. That’s why she can't eat yours."

Rav squinted his eyes at Vespa, and Buddy tensed, but then he walked away with no incident. She supposed here on Ranga, where threatening someone with a knife counted for a greeting, a look like that could be considered somewhat friendly. 

Vespa slumped into the farthest table from the door like she owned the seat and everything else around it, but visibly deflated once it was clear Rav was gone.  
  
“Sorry for that, Bud. I was hoping he’d gotten out of here by now so we wouldn’t have to run into him.”

“Well, I must say, I don’t often enjoy being spoken for, but that was-” She breathed, taking the seat beside Vespa’s with visible awe. “Mrs Ilkay, was that acting I heard earlier? A ruse, perhaps? I’m _smitten.”_

Vespa blushed at the title, crossing her arms. “I did what I had to. If he wasn’t bad enough, Rav doesn’t really like strangers. I won’t talk for you again, I promise.”

“No, no. That wasn’t a complaint, dear. I rather liked it.”

“You did?” Vespa shot her a look as skeptical as the restaurant’s A rating. “Since when?”

“No clue! I’m completely confounded! Perhaps it’s something in the air.”

“Maybe. Still, I didn’t feel great talking over you like that. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Never, darling.” Buddy planted a kiss on her wife’s cheek. “Besides, it wasn’t the talking that did it.”

“Oh?” Vespa raised a scarred eyebrow, her smile from earlier beginning to return slowly. “Care to share?”

“I suppose It’s seeing you like this. Taking charge. Especially here, where I don’t have the first clue on how things work and you seem to have it all down to an art. It’s…” Buddy pursed her lips, both for dramatic effect and to try and figure out for herself what exactly i _t_ was. “Well, it’s not a dynamic I’m used to. No offense to you of course, you always know what you’re doing and I rarely understand the first thing about it, it’s just that I’m rarely quite so reliant on others. And for the first time in years, I’m forced to, but it’s with you so I don’t exactly mind it- am I making sense, darling?”

Vespa fixed her with a look so fond Buddy lost her train of thought completely. "If I knew you liked it so much, I’d take the reins more often."

"Promise, Vespa?"

"I promise, _Mrs Aurinko_."

“ _Hm-_ ” Whatever Buddy was going to say, it was drowned out by a kiss that she remembers thinking would never get old every time it happens, and never does. 

Dinner isn’t _good,_ per say. The wine is sharp and acidic, and although Buddy doesn’t have the slop, Vespa’s expression while eating it doesn’t give her any more faith that it’s edible. If company was all that was required to have a nice evening, then Buddy’s certain this would be one for the ages. 

Vespa was vibrant as ever, telling stories from her past on ranga that ranged from wacky hijinks to genuine thrillers. It took a lot to shock someone with as much life experience as Buddy had, but she found, belatedly, that she was at the edge of her seat. Vespa always had this way of telling stories that captivated whoever was lucky enough to be around to listen, for the few times she felt comfortable enough to share. She spoke with her hands, her long fingers grasping at the air for emphasis when something was particularly gruesome, or she was particularly angry about it. She would give all the people in her stories voices, as if they weren’t simply background to the real star of the show, and knew exactly when to build something up, and when to reveal the heart of her story. Buddy couldn’t help but stare into space and imagine it all, eyes tracing the edges of her wife’s face as she spoke animatedly of a time before their lives had collided in a brilliant explosion.

Vespa spoke of a version of herself that no longer existed, one that was reckless and idealistic and had been beaten away from years of hard realities. She spoke of a Vespa that burned down everything in her path without remorse, that didn’t care who saw, or who minded what she destroyed. She also spoke of a Vespa who had become a doctor because the one in her hometown charged double the average price for life-saving procedures and she was angry enough about it to change that, and when that wasn’t good enough, who learned the best ways to kill someone and fix things the hard way. Buddy could imagine her in perfect clarity, so much detail that she got the feeling she’d seen this other version of her before, and that perhaps she was sitting at that very table. 

Buddy was enraptured by the stories, but she never ached to meet this early incarnation of her wife. She was excited to hear about Vespa in her younger years, sure, a fascinating study of pain and adversity and desperate grit, but she wasn’t real; not anymore at least. _Her_ Vespa had learned far more lessons than Buddy could hope to truly understand, had remade herself from the ground up to survive, and then hit restart and did it all again in order to be happy. Her Vespa was thoughtful and careful and claimed to have become a doctor to learn the best ways to hurt someone, when really she couldn’t stand the sight of people in pain. Her Vespa was real, and here and alive, and that was enough. The stars knew that wasn’t always given with the two of them.  
  
“I don’t know what they expected besides revolution. I guess it serves em’ right for giving them the ability to read, and having them patrol near the theory section of the libra-- Bud?” Vespa stopped mid-story about the time the rangian government tried to replace all the birds with spy droids “You still with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yes darling. I’m listening,” Buddy startled from where she was staring at Vespa, leaning on her hand.  
  
“What’re you looking at?” Vespa asked, with a look that told Buddy she knew exactly what she was looking at. 

“I’m sure it’s no one special.”  
  
“On the contrary. She’s my entire world.”  
  
“Oh,” Vespa said softly, before shaking her head and checking her watch. “Uh, we should get going.”

Buddy stood at Vespa’s cue, following where she ducked behind a door to their left. “Dear? Going to do what?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” 

“Unless you hid it in between the story about the exploding dinner rolls and the time your ex girlfriend pinned a series of armed robberies on you, and I was too busy blocking out the idea that you dated anyone before me to pay attention, I don’t believe you did.”

“Shit.” She turned a corner, and pushed aside a curtain to reveal a large, plush room filled with tables and brimming with cards. “We were supposed to meet our contact here ten minutes ago.”  
  
“This is the casino?” Buddy looked around, blinking at the sudden brightness of the sodium lights compared to the dim mood lighting of the foggy evening and damp hallways. “I was wondering why we bothered with the slop.”

“What, can’t I take you on dates anymore to shitty slop joints just because we’re married now?”  
  
“And they say romance is dead.” 

“Sorry I sprung this on you, Bud.” Vespa stopped, scrubbing a hand over her face and sighing. “I don’t know why I’m so out of it. I guess being here’s just bringing back old memories.”

Buddy was careful to tread lightly. “Are they...bad memories?”

"No.” Vespa said after a while, scoping for their contact from the edge of the crowded room. “No… I don’t think they are.” There was a kind of awe in it, like realising a limb that’s been broken for years no longer hurts to put pressure on. Buddy almost sighed in relief. 

“Well, I frankly don’t think you’ve been out of it. In fact, I think you’ve been stunning.”  
  
“It’s the in charge thing again, isn’t it? I promise I’m not trying to.”  
  
“Doesn’t change the fact you’re good at it, dear. Does little to change my reaction as well.” If Buddy knew what their contact looked like, she could help, but since she didn’t she couldn’t help but feel like dead weight. At least she’d dressed for dinner; if it came down to her using this dress and a very specific expression to get them out of something sticky, at least she was prepared for something.  
  
“I’m still sorry for not telling you.”

“I really don’t mind. I can appreciate a surprise, even if it’s accidental.” Buddy reached down to squeeze her wife’s hand. “I promise.”  
  
Buddy did not appreciate this surprise. She didn’t appreciate it one bit. 

Turns out, the reason they couldn’t find the contact was because they weren’t in the room; they had _left a note_ at the table instead with instructions to go from this dark, underground room to a darker, further underground room. 

Buddy would have been confused by the secrecy were it not for the particularly illegal nature of their activities.  
  
“Sorry we’re late, we got caught up with something.”

The hooded figure at the table let out a noise Buddy could only describe as a screech from 100 leagues under the swamp surface. 

“ _Dea_?” Vespa sputtered, looking like she’d just swallowed a particularly viscous spoonful of slop.

  
Buddy suspected there were very few people with the same name who could make Vespa’s face go white like that. So, no, she was not too keen on sitting down and doing business with her wife’s murderous ex girlfriend, thank you very much.  
  
“I-” Vespa swallowed, looking frantically at Buddy. “Bud, I _promise_ I didn’t know”  
  
“Hrrnngh!” The figure pulled down their hood and stood up to reveal what Buddy could only describe as- well, she didn't know the correct terminology but- to the best of Buddy’s knowledge, Vespa’s murderous, scapegoating ex-girlfriend was also a six foot tall cephalopod with _stars_ knew how many arms, or- Tentacles maybe? Either way, there were a lot of them and they were very strong and Dea, as far as Buddy’s heard, did not like to keep people around or alive for long.  
  
She did not appreciate this. Not. One. Bit.

“Bud-”

Buddy squeezed Vespa’s hand. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. We’ve all made our fair share of mistakes when it comes to love.”

“Hnng!”  
  
“She uh. You don’t wanna know what she said.”

“She’s _speaking_?” Buddy asked, not sure exactly how to look her new acquaintance in the eye.

"You never learned Myopsian l? Damn, Bud, and here I was thinking my school was 

underfunded." 

"Klklklkl, grrrrr."

"Oh, uh." Vespa cleared her throat, looking off to the side in embarrassment. " 'Dea… i didn't think you remembered that, uhm. I'm actually with someone else now, so…."

"GRrrrrr hhhghhh."

"Yes, I _know_ , but-" 

"Klklklkl, klkl gggrrhhhh."

"Can we please have this conversation somewhere else? People can _hear us."_ On 'people', Vespa motioned obviously backwards to Buddy. 

Buddy blinked back. "I haven't a clue what's going on, dear, don't stop on _my_ account."

Vespa gave her a painful look, one she wished she could support with any degree of charm or misdirection, but Buddy was once again completely out of her element and didn't have a clue on how to help Vespa so heavily in hers. 

“GHhhhhhhh KchaGGGG!”  
  
“She, uh. She says to sit down. Uh.” Vespa looked over at Buddy apologetically. “We’re going to play a game.”

“A game of what?”

“You ever played poker?”

Buddy thought she had. Turns out, on Ranga, nothing was quite as it seemed.  
  
Here’s what she picked up: it was some sort of betting game using questions. If you lied, the punishment was death. If you refused to answer after agreeing to a round, the punishment was death. If you cheated? Death. Every round, players suggest questions, and could pass on questions they didn’t want to answer, but it meant that in turn their own question would not be answered. At the end, the winner got to ask a question that couldn’t be refused. Sort of like the games of _truth or get shot_ she used to play in the dorms at school when the girls were too excited for their first night of the semester to sleep. 

Here’s what she didn’t pick up: absolutely anything else. 

The two of them went back and forth for what felt like hours, flipping cards, making bets, tearing their cards up. Buddy could see no rhyme or reason to it. 

“GGgggggghhhhkkktkhhh. Hnnng.” 

“Why did you call us here?”

The dealer put down 3 cards. Then four. Then five. Vespa who tore her hand. 

Dea threw her hand on the table, making a reedy, airy noise that sounded like a sigh bubbling up from out of a drainpipe and slapping a tentacle on the table.  
  
“Ggggg. ffftsHHHHH, cchhhakaaagaa.”  
  
Vespa blanched again, looking over at Buddy as Dea answered. “She, uh. She says she has the plant already. She’s here for me.”  
  
“...For you?” Buddy felt the warmth leave her face. “In what way? I’m assuming she didn’t stage a meeting from a different galaxy just to catch up?”

“I dunno bud, but if she knew who we were, who knows what else she knows,” Vespa whispered, giving Buddy’s arm a quick squeeze from under the table. 

So, that was the game Dea was playing. Play a life or death game to get as much information as she could about Vespa, so when the game was over she knew to find her former flame, whether or not she wanted to be found. It was a con Buddy was more than familiar with over her career; people who clung to their old way of life, old lovers, old lives so tightly they would do anything to bring it back. It would make her feel sick if she wasn’t so used to it.

The realisation that they were the mark, that Buddy and Vespa, Vespa and Buddy, Criminal legends, had been duped, and now their whole family was in danger? That was what really made her feel sick. Not the cruelty of the crime itself, but the fact that they’d been stupid enough to fall for it. 

“Hrrrghhhh.”

“Why are you doing this?”

The dealer set down 3 cards. Vespa and Dea flipped over several cards and took them into their hands. Vespa sighed loudly, throwing down her cards as Dea tore hers.

“Jail.” Vespa reluctantly answered.

They played again.

“Kkkkhkkkhtkt”

“What’s your plan?”

They played, hands and tentacles moving so fast Buddy could barely keep up. Vespa threw her hand again.  
  


“Jail. Again.” 

Again.  
  
“TssssststsssssshghhhK.”

“Why do you care?”

Cards. Smaller cards. Dea tears her hand, Vespa throws hers. 

“Seems statistically impossible, but the answer is also Jail.”

“Darling,” Buddy started, unsure of how to continue (that was really the theme of the heist, wasn’t it? Unsure how to continue?). “Not to pretend I have the slightest clue what’s going on, but it does seem like you’re losing quite badly. Should I expect someone to die any time soon, because I really liked this dress and would rather not have it covered in blood. I would also rather not be stalked for the remainder of our car-”

“-Shh.”

“Did-” Buddy whirled on Vespa, in shock. “Did you just shush me?”

“You’ll forgive me later.” Vespa was glaring, focused at the game, making what was probably eye contact with Dea, not that buddy would know the difference. 

“I.” Buddy crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Well. I sure do hope so.”

Buddy would know that look anywhere. It wasn’t Vespa’s _I am focusing on something that's making me upset_ glare, it was her _I have a plan, and I can’t tell you right now, but it’s good_ glare. If Buddy was up to date on her Vespa glare codes, she was over the moon with how well Vespa was pulling this off; pretending to lose on accident, pretending to be frustrated about it. 

They played a few more rounds, with Vespa getting more and more angry, or at least feigning it every time she had to throw her hand, until half the deck was left intact, and the game was half through. Back and forth, Vespa asked the same questions, and answered vaguely when she was called to. Buddy had no clue what Dea wanted to know, but given that Vespa got that much more uncomfortable every time she asked them, Buddy was going to venture a guess that they weren’t great. 

Eventually, Vespa looked just about ready to tear her hair out, and if Dea had a proper face, it would probably look pleased as swamp punch. Buddy tried to not let her faith in her wife waver, but that was hard when death-by-massive-tentacle one way or another was on the line.  
  
“Chkkkktktkhhgh.”

“Where are you keeping the plant?”

Buddy was good enough by now to learn what a losing hand looked like. She knew what Vespa’s hand looked like, to be specific. Dea tore her hand, but instead of growling out an answer, Vespa stood up, chair scraping against the glossy wood floor, hands braced on the table (gripping, angry, nails digging into the felt) 

“No.”

“Pardon?” Buddy did not like how this was going. 

“No. I’m not telling you.”  
  
“Ioaennsdk.”

“I don’t _care_.”

“Aasdsnjsnsgrrr.”  
  
“Oh, I'd like to see you try. Or, we could- we could up the ante! House rules!” Vespa now had the attention of the entire room which, if Buddy was trite enough to ascribe rules to a successful career in stealing things, would be number one on the list of things NOT to do. “Instead of you asking me the same useless questions, expecting to take what you want anyway, why don’t you take it now?”  
  
Buddy’s blood ran cold. 

“Vespa, darling, I hope you’ve thought this through thoroughly-”  
  
“If I win the game, you give us the plant. If you win…” Vespa looked over at her wife again, a little frantic, clearly trying to communicate something, but Buddy’s heart was pounding too hard for her to focus on what it might mean.

"If you win, I go with you. That's what you wanted, right?”

Dea was silent as she considered. So was the rest of the room. So seemed to be the entire world, save for Buddy’s heart, which was making the distinct, paper-like sound of being torn in two.  
  
She tried to breathe, tried to focus at the moment at hand. Tried to do the one thing she was not good at, but wanted desperately to do and blindly trust this situation, to let Vespa take the reins the way she’d been so excited to do moments prior. 

She could trust Vespa. She had a plan. She wouldn’t offer to leave unless she had a plan.Unless...Vespa had seemed awfully homesick this entire trip, hadn’t she? Vespa, who had spent so many years struggling with a brain that betrayed her, was somehow able to find solace and clarity in something familiar. This city, this entire planet was familiar enough that her hallucinations didn’t seem to bother her in the way they usually did. She had complete control, understood everything- it made sense that the voices would be quieter, or at least kinder here. Maybe it was a fluke; maybe today just so happened to be one of her good days, but that small, contrarian part of Buddy told her otherwise. 

It told her that maybe Vespa would be better off on Ranga. Maybe she didn’t have as much of a plan as she thought, and was trying to find the kindest way out. Maybe the trip had brought back old feelings and-

No. Buddy would not do this, not today. Not now of all days. She and Vespa had been through too much distance for too long to willingly choose it now, even under threat of death. They’d had their first meeting under threat of death; first kiss, they’d even gotten married knowing at any point the whole thing could turn on its head and, when it did, they didn’t shake.  
  
If there was anyone Buddy could trust on this slimy, damp planet it was Vespa Ilkay, and Buddy would not doubt her again. Even if she was making it awfully appealing to do so. 

The end of the game played out like trying to run through quicksand; the two played dirty, vespa tearing hand after hand after hand until Buddy was certain she’d have more than a few papercuts. Dea on the other hand, was livid. If the red glowing on the sides of her face- oh, so _that’s_ where her eyes were, good to know- was anything to go by, she did not like losing.  
  
“HrrrnGHHHHH!”  
  
“Why did we break up in the first place?”

Three cards; four, five. Matches flipped. Vespa tore her hand.  
  
“hnnnnGGGG KHKHKHTHK shhhhhhhhhhhhhshnt! Chhhaggh.”

“Oh, I remember, I was just wondering if you did.”

“HNNNNG!”

  
“And why did I end up in jail that night then?”

Three. Four. Five. 10 more matched sets. Dea threw her hand, Vespa tore hers.

“Chhhhhhaghht. AesssshhhhhhhtchagHHH.”  
  
“Mhm, yeah. And whose fault was that?”

“HHHHGSHGHGJHJhg.”  
  
“Ok then, pass. We both know the answer. Here’s a different question; after all that, why on mars would I ever want to return to someone who would do that. I’ll give you time before the round begins.”  
  
Dea’s tentacles coiled in anger, as if prepared to strike. Thankfully for them, the heated game was still better entertainment for the casino patrons than their own games, so they had a full audience. Too full for her to kill them in plain sight, with no evidence of lying or cheating on either side. Buddy was beginning to like Rangian Street Poker.

One last round; all the other cards had been torn. It was the last play possible with the amount of functional cards they had left, and it meant that this round would determine the game.  
  
“NgggghhhhatCHHH!”  
  
“Where are you keeping the Barbadensis plant?”

Three. Four. Five. Vespa flips the twin war goats. Dea throws her hand. All in an instant; it’s over. 

Dea lets out a roar, unhinging her jaw to reveal several sets of razor-sharp teeth, and it was so powerful that bits of squid spittle flew in all directions. 

“That bit you said, about me being as stubborn as ever and all that, same as before? Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” And there Vespa stood, queen of it all, Victorious with the last torn hand of the game, shooting Buddy a look that would make far stronger women faint.

“I have changed. For one, I’m a lot better at cards than I used to be. Now, we won fair and square; where’s the plant?”

And wasn’t it so fortunate that the casino had such a strict anti-cheating policy that nobody was allowed out without confirmation that their bets had been settled. And wasn’t it just on a stroke of luck that everyone was watching, enough to make it very difficult to make an escape between the crowd of gamblers scrambling to get a peak, especially if you were nine feet tall and made of tentacles, and on the losing side. 

Except, it wasn’t luck at all. It had been Vespa; brilliant, blazing Vespa with nothing but a set of working lungs and a bone to pick. Buddy felt starstruck all the way to the vault where the Barbadensis plant was being hidden. Dea’s safe code was probably fake- she’d only promised a correct address, not a correct way to open it- but that was alright. Buddy had been opening safes like this since before she could walk, and it was as easily as breathing that she cracked this one.  
  
“Bud? Are you alright? You looked a pale in there.”  
  
Buddy sat, ear to the front wall of the safe, waiting for the telltale click that meant it was open. “Well, it did look close for a moment, Darling. I’m simply getting my bearings, that’s all.”  
  
Vespa chuckled from her spot leaning up against the wall. “That’s definitely a way to put it.” Then, hesitantly, nervous. “Are you still mad at me for shushing you?”

“On the contrary, dear.” Buddy turned the dial a few more times. She stopped when hearing a click. “I think I may be in love with you.”

“Well, I hope so, otherwise what was all that about a wedding for?”

“I just thought it needed to be said, Darling.”  
  
“And I think you may be deflecting.”

 _Click._

“I…” Buddy pretended to struggle with the dial to buy herself more time. She sighed turning around to face her wife. “I’m not proud of how nervous that con made me, darling. I trust you with my whole heart of course, but a part of me thought- I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted-”  
  
Vespa pushed off the wall and pressed a kiss to the corner of Buddy’s mouth, effectively rerouting her train of thought. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.” There was a softness in her voice, and not just because they had to keep it down for fear of being heard. 

Buddy reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Vespa’s ear, playing with it. “You just seem so happy since we came here, so secure. I’d feel awful trying to keep you from that, no matter how much I want to.”  
  
“What, you think I’ve been happy this whole time because we’re on Ranga?” Vespa scoffed, kneeling next to where Buddy was sat next to the safe and kissed her for real, smiling into it. “Haven’t you ever heard of the Honeymoon phase?”  
  
_Click_  
  
“Oh.” Buddy turned back around to the safe as it popped open. Inside there was a small, flowering plant. “So, not Ranga?”

“I mean, I like it here just fine, but I like you more, Bud.”  
  
“I suppose it must seem quite foolish of me, considering how I’ve been feeling rather the same.” 

Buddy pulled out the plant, trucking it under her arm and starting to stand up. Vespa offered a hand to help her up.n“A little bit, but i won’t put it past you, Mrs Aurinko.” She flashed Buddy a crooked grin, not letting go of her hand even as they were both upright. “You ready?”

Buddy looked at her wife and, for the first time in days, felt secure. 

“As I’ll ever be, Mrs Ilkay.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
